Mariasama ga Miteru drabbles
by Rosa Chinensis
Summary: Drabbles based on Konno Oyuki's Mariasama ga Miteru. Mainly yuri. Warning: Some drabbles contain spoilers.
1. General

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
First set of drabbles: general drabbles.

**Existential**  
Warnings: Shimako-related spoilers for up through most of Haru.

Some nights, Shimako dreams of cherry blossoms.

Droplets of pink falling around her and she reaches up and the rosary is around her wrist but it isn't, she lost it, she never had it, because Sei never existed and she has always been alone. But that's not right, Sei was there, she knows this because it is A Fact.

_Noriko has the rosary_, she reasons, _Noriko has it_, but as she thinks that she realizes it has been around her wrist all along, wrapped securely, coiling protectively around the fragile appendage.

_There is no Noriko then_, she thinks, and wakes.

**Blessed**  
All her life, she'd been told she had a gift. That she'd been granted a talent most people would gladly give a limb for.

Right now the supposed gift felt more like a curse. A curse that, all her life, had set her apart from others, had made people see her as something alien rather than just an ordinary person like themselves.

And now it was taking her away from the one she loved; miles and miles away. She would likely never see her again.

Well, she wouldn't stand for it. She was staying, and that was that. Case closed.

**The Pitch**  
Note: The story Sei is pitching to Yumi (for a performance at a school festival or some such) is from the British prison drama _Bad Girls_.

"I'm not your jailer anymore," Sei said, gently tracing the plane of the other woman's face, "so I can do this."

The dramatic effect went completely out the window as she placed her arms around herself and made rude smacking noises. Yumi winced.

Sei turned back, grinning. "Now wouldn't you like to do that opposite Sachiko?"

Yumi's eyes grew as big as saucers. "Wh-wh-wh-" she stammered.

"Come on," Sei said conspiratorially, leaning in. "Wouldn't you like to see her in that nice skirt suit?"

"But I- That's- You know-"

"I know," Sei said, sighing. "Youko didn't go for it either."

**Change**  
"Good day, Rosa Chinensis."

She turns, a ready smile on her face for the underclassmen whose cheeks are tinged with a hint of red. "Good day."

She isn't quite used to being one of the stars of the school yet-- and frankly, probably never will be-- but she's a far cry from the girl she used to be. Her years at Lillian High, under the watchful eye of her onee-sama and the other members of the Yamayurikai, have changed her. She's grown into her relationship with both of her soeurs.

But some days, she still wants to run and hide.

**_Rosa chinensis_**  
When the bud first began to form, it was unremarkable. A mere hint of something, tinged with green, barely noticeable.

It took months for the bud to fully form, months of water and sunlight and another, more spiritual, sort of nurturing. It was small but plump now, nearly bursting with the promise of life. Still it went mostly unnoticed; its time had not yet come.

The bud's transformation into a flower took much longer; a full year, in fact. Its beauty was remarkable: delicate yet strong, firm yet flexible, cute but not overly so. It was a rose among roses.

**Valentine's Curse**  
After the disaster of her first Valentine's Day gift to Sachiko, Yumi was particularly determined to make this year's present absolutely perfect.

She'd chosen a recipe that was a bit simpler-- but still, Rei assured her, quite tasty-- and had double-checked to be sure she had all the ingredients.

The baking went surprisingly well, and with a minimum of accidents. It wasn't until afterwards that Yuuki, popping into the kitchen for a nighttime snack, had the unfortunate duty of informing Yumi that cocoa powder and hot cocoa powder were not quite the same thing.

That was it. She was cursed.

**Kindred Spirits**  
It is not yet evening when we leave the Rose Mansion, our duties finished for the day. We walk side by side, not speaking, each of us lost in our thoughts.

A flash of white in the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I look up to see the moon shining in a cloudless sky. It's a sight I've seen many times before, but one that rarely fails to move me.

"Look," I say, pointing, and she obliges.

As she gazes upward, I see from her eyes that she feels it too. Perhaps we are well-matched after all.

**Watching Eye**  
They are long free of the greenhouse now, old enough to know now that what they once saw as freedom is anything but. The Virgin Mary's blank, almost benign gaze has been replaced by the all-too-knowing eyes of society.

They are not safe here. There are no longer any gardens in which to frolic; everything happens behind closed doors now, in seedy bars and empty apartments. In the beginning it was exciting, brimming with the thrill of the forbidden. Now it has grown restrictive, tedious. They long for their days in the garden.

It's a pity they can never return.

**Hope**  
Warning: Spoilers for parts of the Forest of Thorns arc.

It couldn't be. It simply couldn't be.

The article had been clear: one living, one dead.

"Suga Sei." She shaped the syllables with her mouth, slowly, carefully. "Seiko..."

It was a coincidence, surely.

Her hands trembled, tapping a nervous rhythm against her desk until she stilled them, clenching tight.

She would need to place a phone call; duty dictated that she investigate the matter. If the student had, in fact, lied, she would need to be reprimanded.

She did not know if she had the strength to pick up the receiver. The miracle of hope was so fragile.

She sighed. 


	2. Rei and Yoshino

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
Second set of drabbles: Rei and Yoshino.

**A Promise Kept**

She opens her eyes at the sound of the door opening.

She turns her head to look at her visitor, though she has little doubt as to her identity; merely from a footfall, a breath indrawn or exhaled, a thousand minor clues overlooked by those who call themselves "well," can she tell her visitors apart. The skill is the byproduct of the many hours she spends in this bed, killing time while her body sputters and clings to the brink of life, never quite falling over but never letting her forget that she is not normal, is not living a normal life.

The figure walks forward, solemn, looking at her as though trying to ascertain her condition. She sets down her bag, then comes to kneel at the side of the bed.

They exchange pleasantries—"Hello" and "How are you" and "How was the ceremony" and "How are you feeling," the last of which is really a euphemism for "Was it bad today? I'm sorry I couldn't be here for you."

Then Rei _looks_ at her, and she knows what is going to happen. She feels strangely numb inside; it is a realization of inevitability, and that is nothing, _nothing_ to a girl who lives on adventure, though it's typically of the second-hand sort.

Rei is reaching up, pulling the rosary out from beneath her school uniform and then up above her head, and Yoshino follows it dully with her eyes. Then the rosary is pressed into her hand, warm still from Rei's skin, as Rei covers it with her own hand.

There is a cloying sweetness to the scene that only serves to irritate her, a sense that she is being catered to, patronized. She has always chafed at being ruled by her body's limitations and at the way others treat her because of it, and it is no exception with Rei. She resents her even as she loves her, wishing their positions were reversed and feeling guilty because of it. She is a mass of contradictions, really; she wishes it were someone else offering the rosary to her, someone unexpected and exciting, even as she knows that she wants it to be Rei, that for her there is no other possible choice.

Their unspoken promise has been kept, but a part of her wishes it hasn't been.**  
**

**Shock**  
The metal digs into her palm, the weight of reality housed in her fragile clenched fist, its tendrils sliding over her hand, trapping, binding. She feels none of it; just stands there, frozen, unaware of the racing of her heart or the trembling of her hands.

All she knows to do in this moment is to look into the distance, following with her eyes the car she has no hope of catching now-- the one opportunity to prevent her life from falling to pieces, lost to her now.

Long after the dust has settled, she is still standing there, frozen.

**Faith**  
Warnings: Extremely vague spoilers for the 22nd novel (_Mirai no Hakuchizu_).

Rei and Yoshino see a shooting star. Rei wishes for Yoshino's health; Yoshino wishes she could do kendo just like Rei. They are eight and nine. Their wishes are granted, though not quite yet.

A few years later, they see another. Rei, fourteen, wishes for Yoshino's health, and Yoshino, thirteen, wishes she could walk side-by-side with Rei. Their wishes are granted, though not quite yet.

More time passes, and they see another. Rei wishes for Yoshino's continued health. Yoshino, now fifteen, wishes Rei would be by her side forever.

At sixteen, Yoshino stops wishing. Her faith in shooting stars is gone.


	3. Yumi and Sachiko

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
Third set of drabbles: Yumi and Sachiko.

**Obligation**  
In the beginning, Sachiko's interest in her wasn't sincere-- she was just a person who'd been in the right place at the right time. Sachiko first used her, then cared for her out of obligation.

Things are different now, Yumi assures herself, but sometimes, on days when she's down, or Sachiko's ignoring her, or everything is perfect but she still feels so completely inadequate and unworthy, she can't help but wonder if obligation is still the driving force behind Sachiko's feelings.

It isn't a pretty thought, but it's a valid one, and she can't seem to stop it from coming.

**Second Impression**  
The first time Yumi visited the Ogasawara house, the thing that most struck her about it was the hugeness of it, the sprawling decadence; the stern iron gate marking the barrier between the world she knew and the world that was Sachiko's. She knew awe, and perhaps a touch of envy.

The second time Yumi visited the Ogasawara house, the thing that most struck her about it was the hugeness of it, the stark loneliness; so much sterile, empty space, nothing like the coziness of her family's own rather modest house. She knew sorrow, and perhaps a touch of pity.

**Husk**  
Note: Told from Youko's POV.

_You've changed, Sachiko._

The beauty of her youth has yet to fade, and the facade is as perfect as ever. But there is an emptiness to her now, a quiet sort of despair. She has been reduced to the person she is expected to be.

_I'm sorry._

I've been so busy with my own life, my petty desires and dreams. I never noticed her slipping away, becoming less person and more inanimate object with each passing day. If only I had been there for her when she needed me.

If only...

_It's because she's gone, isn't it? Your life's joy._

**Maturity**  
Yumi remembers well the day Sachiko first began to accept her as a fellow adult.

Coming to visit the Ogasawara residence, she found Youko comforting a distraught Sachiko.

"Is something the matter?" She asked.

Youko said nothing; just gave her a knowing look and then returned to her task.

After a few moments, Sachiko pulled herself together. "It would be best if you went home, Yumi," she said. "This is not an affair you should hear of."

"You can speak to me of these things," Yumi said. "I'm no longer a child."

"No," said Sachiko, "I suppose you are not."

**Revelation**  
There are fragments of her on the pillow, and scattered round the room. She isn't sure she can put herself back together again.

Yumi does it for her, gathering the pieces and assembling them with loving dedication.

She is whole again now, but she has become something more; she feels as though she has touched the depths of the universe. She sees everything with such clarity now, and such distance. It is quite an odd experience.

She comes back to herself in Yumi's arms, her body damp with sweat.

"Your turn now," she says, her voice foreign, hoarse.

Yumi smiles.

**Letting Go**  
The end of the day draws near; it is time now for the sun to sink below the horizon.

They do not want to believe it. She cannot be leaving. Not Ogasawara Sachiko. Time may pass for others; not her.

There is a second-year sitting outside the school building, crying her eyes out. Yumi doesn't know her personally, but she's seen her around. She steps forward and offers the girl her handkerchief. As the girl takes it, Yumi realizes, too late, that it was the one Sachiko gave her for Christmas so long ago. Tears pool in her own eyes.

**Utterly Perfect Imperfection**  
When Sachiko dances, it is beauty in motion. Effortless, graceful, flawless in form.

There's also something distant about it, as though she is untouchable; human hands are not suited for her body.

When you look closer, it becomes rigid, confining. She is following a pattern dictated to her by others, as she has all her life. A perfect china doll, fully automated.

Only a select few have had this revelation, her two soeurs primary among them.

Youko took the doll off its shelf, but it is up to Yumi to breathe life into it.

Sachiko and Yumi dance, clumsily imperfect.


	4. Sei and Shiori

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
Fourth set of drabbles: Sei and Shiori.**  
Warning**: these drabbles contain spoilers for the _White Petals_ arc (episode 11 of the anime; the last part of volume 3 of the novel and manga).

**Tarnished**

Before Sei, Shiori had always been a good girl. She followed the rules, she always did her homework, and she prayed all the time. She never lied, or broke her word; she was practically perfect in every way, at least in terms of conduct.

Sei tried to break that part of her, tried to convince her to turn her back on all that was good and right in the world, on everything she'd known. In the end, all she really did was turn Shiori into a liar, into someone who couldn't be trusted.

Shiori still resents her for that, sometimes.

**Sincere**

Sincere is saying things and meaning them. Sincere is telling me you're transferring away and not leading me on and then leaving behind my back. Don't give me that shit about thinking you could at the time and then realizing later you couldn't. You could. You always could.

Sincere is telling me to my face, in words I can understand, instead of through some cryptic letter. Did you think I'd understand it? Well, I don't.

Sincere is loving each other wholeheartedly and never letting go. It's the sort of love you can't just throw away like that.

You weren't sincere.

**White Christmas**

Satou Sei was dumped on the night before her birthday. To add insult to injury, it was Christmas Eve.

Every year, as Christmastime approaches, thoughts of Shiori begin to make their way into her consciousness once more, breaking free from their confinement to the back of her mind. It's like her own personal snowfall— drops of white purity peppering her mind, forming a thick blanket by Christmas Eve.

As the years pass, the strength of the memories diminish, and Sei's tolerance grows, but the memories never fail to come entirely.

For Sei, Christmastime will always be the season of Shiori.

**Revelation**

When their relationship began, it was innocent. A sense of connection, an easy rapport. Smiles given and received. If they were getting closer, there was no harm in it. Her dream, her heart, had not changed.

Weeks passed, and the glances grew more heated, the touches more frequent. They were rarely apart. She told herself her first allegiance had never changed; it was still to her dream, to God.

For but an instant, their lips touched. The innocent facade was gone now, the truth laid bare even to eyes that did not wish to see: she had fallen in love.

**Futile**

I know what is good, and I know what is just. I know what Our Father expects of us. I know this is a sin.

The Headmistress speaks to me of losing oneself, of drowning in a sea of desperation and need. I heed her words.

I pray often. I pray for guidance, for the strength to do what is right.

But no matter how much I pray, she will not disappear from my mind. She haunts my every waking hour, and my dreams as well; there is no reprieve from this love, harsh as a summer storm.

I surrender.

**Sentimentality**

She still has the letter, tucked away in a drawer somewhere. She hasn't looked at it in years.

Back in high school, she used to take it out every so often and smooth her fingers over the paper, caressing the neat, orderly handwriting. There was no need to reread it— every word had already been branded into her mind. Over the months, the characters warped, her tears gradually wearing away at them.

It is only a fragment of memory now: distant, nearly forgotten. A sweet girlhood dream left to rot in the darkness.

And yet, she's never thrown it away.


	5. Sei and Youko

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
Fifth set of drabbles: Sei and Youko.

**Taste the Rainbow**  
Red cherry lips, set in a face framed by hair tinted orange in the flickering light of the candles. Kissing her skin, the faint tan a golden hue in the light.

I lift up on my elbows, surveying her against the backdrop of the bedding, its dark green color barely discernible in the sparse light. It is her eyes that hold me, the deep, magnetic blue; it is one of oceans and early evening skies, flecked with hints of a darker shade.

I apply myself to her skin once more; my lips traverse her neck, leaving purple in their wake.

**Precious Doll**  
Sometimes Youko is amazed by how fragile Sei seems, at least in her own mind.

"Harder," Sei will gasp, her face contorted with pleasure, nearly breaking, nearly **there**; and Youko will find that a part of her is afraid to press harder, afraid of going too far.

She's found, to her own surprise, that she wants to take care with Sei when they are in bed together, wants to dote on her and touch her gently. She tries to curb these tendencies, for their mutual sanity; but sometimes she slips and Sei is like porcelain beneath her suddenly shy fingers.

**Skin**  
Youko is addicted to Sei's skin. She can't get enough of it: the slightly salty taste on her tongue, the soft, silky texture under her fingers.

She could spend hours indulging her addiction, but she holds herself back. Perhaps it's some sort of instinctual self-preservation, or maybe it's because she's so unused to indulging herself when it comes to Sei.

One day, she looks up from her perusal of Sei's body to see her smiling down on her fondly, almost indulgently. And she wonders to herself if she's really that transparent, or if Sei just knows her too well.

**Nuisance**  
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star," Sei sang softly, accentuating each syllable with a tap to Youko's (unfortunately somewhat ticklish) bare stomach.

"Stop it," Youko protested, squirming in discomfort.

Sei continued, oblivious.

Youko propped her head up on her elbow, looking down at Sei with a smile twitching at the edges of her lips. "You know," she said, trying to sound stern but completely unable to pull it off, "I **do** have ways of making you cooperate."

"Hmph," Sei snorted, but stopped.

"I'm bored," she announced a short while later.

"Find something to do," Youko muttered, barely awake.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little..."

Damnit.

**Guilty**  
"How do you plead?"

"I plead innocent!"

Sigh.

"Sorry, sorry. Guilty, guilty."

Sigh.

"What, not serious enough? Your Honor, please have mercy on this innocent girl!" Bat, bat. Hand to forehead. "I have committed the terrible crime of... of... of stealing panties! I only did it because I was horny, I swear!" Laughter.

Sigh. "You know, I only went along with this because you-"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. I couldn't help it, really! I'll be good this time, I promise." Bat, bat.

Sigh. "How do you plead?"

"I plead guilty. Guilty of wanting to go over to that bench and-"

"Argh!"

**The Beginning**  
Note: You could think of this as taking place before Surreal.

That first drunken kiss was where it all started. Sloppy lips on lips and lips on necks and hands on bodies.

They were both too far gone to understand the consequences, or maybe just too far gone to care. It wouldn't matter once they'd both forgotten; they'd believe what they wished.

The next morning would have been more awkward if they weren't both suffering from massive hangovers.

Youko gathered up her things and left; the soft thuds of her footsteps and the door closing behind her assaulted Sei's throbbing head.

Sei just lay there, eyes screwed shut, feeling the pain.

**Resistance**

My hands are on her body, my tongue in her mouth, and still there is a part of her that resists this.

I pull away.

"I thought you didn't want to fight this anymore."

She pulls me back, kissing me more fiercely, as though she has something to prove. She is only deluding herself.

As her hands begin to unbutton my shirt, I still them and pull away again. I shake my head, and her eyes grow cold with rejection.

"Go home to your husband," I say.

She does.

I sit and stare out the window, remembering more innocent times.


	6. Crack or parody

Disclaimer: _Maria-sama ga Miteru_ and all characters therein belong to Konno Oyuki, Nagasawa Satoru, Shuueisha, and Geneon Entertainment. I'm just borrowing them for nefarious (but nonprofit!) purposes.  
Fifth set of drabbles: crack/parody drabbles.

**Speech**  
"I have a dream," Youko began, rising to loom above the august body, her voice taking on the cadence of one who thinks she has something terribly impressive to say, "I have a dream that someday, the Rose Mansion will be full of life and laughter, a gathering place for plebeian and Yamayurikai member alike. I have a dream," her voice gained intensity, rising nearly to fever pitch, "that Roses will join hands with common students, that Boutons-"

Sei yawned.

Within seconds, there was a pile of ash where she had been sitting.

"Shall I continue?"

There were no objections.

**Roses of Depravity**  
Lillian Girls' Academy is a place of innocence and purity. It is a garden in which dwells the most precious kind of flower: the young girl. Set apart from men, these girls live lives of chastity and spirituality.

So Fukuzawa Yumi believed... until she was inducted into a sorority of a most sordid sort, a den of wickedness known as... **the Yamayurikai**. Within this sinful society, she found predators of the worst kind: those that target young girls to fulfill their perverted desires, not satisfied until they have created monsters equal to themselves.

Yes, Yumi was to become... **a Rose**.

**Satisfaction Guaranteed**  
"Satisfaction guaranteed."

Those two words had changed Yumi's life more than she had ever dreamed possible.

She'd entered the high school division of Lillian expecting to lead, well, a fairly normal high school life, but what she'd found there defied even the most twisted of imaginations.

The unbelievable facts were thus: that Lillian High was a front for an underground, high-class prostitution ring; that the student council, the Yamayurikai, was responsible for selecting and training new recruits; and, perhaps the most unbelievable of the lot, that Yumi had been selected to join the ranks of said recruits.

It was going to be a very long year.

**Composure**  
Sequel to Satisfaction Guaranteed.

"No matter what occurs," Rosa Chinensis en bouton lectured, "you must remain perfectly at ease. If our clients wished for jumpy, inexperienced children, they would turn elsewhere. What they seek from us are experienced, capable professionals, able to handle whatever requests they may put to us."

Yumi gulped.

Sachiko rounded on her. "Did I grant you permission to speak, Yumi?"

"No, Sachiko-sama," Yumi murmured, bowing her head.

"It is imperative that you learn composure. Never forget that."

Sachiko leaned in, putting her hand on Yumi's cheek. "Don't make me regret having chosen you, Yumi."

Yumi's heart skipped a beat.

**Her Lips**  
Companion to Satisfaction Guaranteed and Composure.

"Your lips are one of the most important features at your disposal. As such, both their maintenance and their usage are..."

Yumi had a terrible problem. The instant Sachiko had mentioned lips, Yumi had been able to think of nothing else but Sachiko's own lips: the perfect pink color, the slight fullness in her bottom lip, the way they shaped themselves around various words... They were simply marvelous.

Any minute now, Sachiko would notice her staring. She'd see Yumi wasn't paying proper attention and make that cute little pouty frown she made every time Yumi messed up. That frown. Ooooh.


End file.
